


begging for a fist around it

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Begging, Breathplay, Choking, Collars, Eddie lives AU, Established Relationship, Kink Negotition, M/M, post chapter 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 01:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21128846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Richie figures out Eddie's kink.





	begging for a fist around it

**Author's Note:**

> we all now why I wrote this (disclaimer: I know nothing about safe breathplay. we're all just here for the sexy factor, let's be real)
> 
> thanks to Hannah for beta'ing!

Look, Richie isn’t the _brightest_, okay? But he’s not an idiot, either. And he’d _have_ to be an idiot to miss certain things. 

Like the way Eddie’s eyes flutter just slightly when Richie presses his hand against Eddie’s throat. Like the way Eddie’s cock seems to jump when Richie pushes his thumb against Eddie’s adam’s apple. Like the way Eddie seems to come hardest when Richie is gripping his neck, no matter what else they’re doing—handjobs, fucking, whatever. 

It’s pretty goddamn hard to miss. 

That’s why Richie finds himself online, perusing corners that he never really expected to peruse, until he finds a sleek leather collar. With a guilty glance toward the bedroom door, where Eddie’s asleep and none the wiser, Richie fumbles for his wallet and hits _‘place order.’_

Richie’s plan—that is, to surprise Eddie with the collar on their next date night—goes out the window when he gets home from a grocery run to find the discrete brown box on the kitchen table, in front of Eddie. Eddie with his fingers steepled together, chin on his hands, staring at the box.

And its contents. 

“Eds, I can explain.”

“Well I sure as shit hope so, Richie,” Eddie retorts without heat. 

Richie swallows. “I’m just, just gonna put the groceries away first.”

Eddie sighs. “I’ll help.” 

He stands, gives the box on the table a final lingering stare, before moving toward Richie and the kitchen island loaded up with reusable bags full of groceries. They unload in silence; the only sounds filling the kitchen are the soft thuds of cabinets closing, the suction of the fridge door being pulled open and shoved shut, the rustle of the reusable bags being folded up neatly and shoved in a drawer till next time. 

Then Eddie walks back over to his previous seat at the dining room table and looks at Richie expectantly. 

“Can I just…” Richie flounders as he walks closer. He changes tactics. “I just noticed something. About you.”

Eddie arches an eyebrow. It’s then that Richie realizes Eddie’s hands, despite being clasped together again, are shaking.

“Let me show you,” Richie says with a little more confidence. He reaches into the little brown box and pulls the dark brown, supple and soft leather collar from inside. It’s not a collar in the sense he’s going to hook a leash to it and, like, lead Eddie around on his knees or something.

(Except, Richie’s dick gives a traitorous twitch, so...he’ll table the thought for now.)

He stands in front of Eddie and loops the collar around his neck. “Like this, see?” He says quietly as he threads one end of the collar through the metal loop. Gentle and slow, he tugs until it’s tight around Eddie’s neck, the silver ring pressing right against his adam’s apple.

Eddie gasps, just once, before Richie lets the hold slacken. 

“I noticed that you like it,” Richie says as he reaches up to touch the edge where leather meets skin. “And I wanted to...support you.”

Eddie scoffs slightly, but his eyes are wide and his lips are parted. 

“You look good like this, Eds,” Richie says. He swallows nervously. He’s never been a take-charge kind of guy in the bedroom—not with Eddie, and not with anyone else. He’s never felt the need. And it’s not exactly a need to “take charge” right now. Not a need to be in control, at least...more like, a need to _help_. A need to make Eddie feel good. 

So he tugs again gently until Eddie’s eyes flutter and his mouth parts a little wider. “Rich.”

“Is this okay?” Richie breathes back. 

There’s a heavy, pregnant pause. Richie slackens his hold again and Eddie lets out a deep breath and opens his eyes. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Yeah, it’s okay. Take me to bed, Richie.”

Richie gulps. “Oh, shit, yeah, okay. Okay.” He stands up straight, knees and back cracking. His hand drops from Eddie’s throat. “Right now?”

Eddie arches an unimpressed eyebrow and gestures to his lap, where his cock tents his jeans. 

“Jesus fuck,” Richie says. “Yeah, right now.” He holds out a hand to help Eddie to his feet and they both go staggering toward the hallway and to their room. Richie turns around when they tumble past the door to find Eddie shed his jeans and shirt somewhere along the way and is left in nothing but his boxers, his socks, and the collar around his neck. 

“Catch up,” Eddie says. He walks around Richie to the bed, falling onto it on his back. 

“Well excuse the fuck outta me, I didn’t realize this was a race.”

“You bought me a goddamn collar because you, _somehow_, picked up on the fact I like getting choked. Forgive me for wanting your dick in me as soon as possible.”

Richie stops fumbling with his clothes and shoves a hand inside his own briefs to grip the base of his cock. “Christ, Eddie, why didn’t you just tell me about your stupid kink sooner?” 

“What,” Eddie says as he shimmies out of his boxers and socks. He looks a picture spread out on the bed, hard cock smearing precome along his stomach. “Just say, ‘hey Rich! I want you to choke me!’”

“Uh, yes?” Richie is finally naked and he hurries over to the bed. “We killed an evil demonic clown, you getting choked isn’t exactly revolutionary information. It’s twenty-twenty, man.”

“Don’t call me man,” Eddie says before reaching up and knotting a hand in Richie’s hair to drag him down into a kiss. “Get the lube.”

“Bossy,” Richie says, fondness heavy in his chest. He does as told, slicks up three fingers, and reaches between Eddie’s legs. At the same time he brings his other hand to the collar and hooks two fingers around the strap to give it a tug. 

Eddie gasps and arches his back; it grinds him back against Richie’s fingers and Richie pulls the collar a hair tighter in response. Eddie wheezes, gasps, licks his lips and Richie watches his eyes roll back in his head.

Richie lets go of the collar and watches a vibrant flush rush back to Eddie’s cheeks. Between them, a thick spurt of precome sticks to Eddie’s stomach. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Richie murmurs. “You’re so fucking pretty, Eds.”

“Fuck me already, Richie. C’mon, please.” Eddie moans as he thrashes, fucking himself on Richie’s three fingers and throwing his head from side to side. The collar jingles quietly as he does, until Richie reaches out to grab it again, holding it just tight enough to force Eddie to stay still. “Richie,” Eddie rasps. The restriction is light, but enough to have his voice thin and reedy. “Richie, please.”

“You look good when you beg,” Richie says before pulling his fingers out. He slicks up his cock with the same hand so his other hand never strays far from the collar. He takes his cock by the base and guides it until the tip is pressing against Eddie’s hole. “A little more, Eds. Let me hear you.”

He lets go of the collar and Eddie takes a deep, full breath, then another, and another, before he nods and Richie grabs the strap and tugs. Eddie’s whole body jerks when as he gasps and Richie’s never seen anything prettier than Eddie like this. 

“Please, Richie,” Eddie moans. He struggles to breathe in but still manages to plead, “Need your cock in me, please.”

“That’s it,” Richie says as he finally guides his cock into Eddie’s body. He lets up on the collar as he slides in. Eddie’s chest heaves as he catches his breath. “God,” Richie groans. “You take it so good.”

“Feels good,” Eddie slurs. He reaches out and grabs Richie’s wrist, pushing his hand toward the collar again. “Please.”

Richie bottoms out and pulls the collar tight in the same moment. Eddie opens his mouth as if to wail but with no air, all that comes out is a tight rasp. Richie lets it go on for a moment, then two, before pulling away at the same time he pulls out. 

Eddie’s still gasping for air as Richie starts to thrust into him again, then out, and in. It fills their bedroom with slick, sloppy sounds the faster Richie goes and he realizes a beat too late that it’s hard to focus on holding the collar with just the right strength while also pounding into Eddie.

“Let me,” Eddie says as he shoves Richie’s hand away. “Just keep fucking me.” And then Richie’s treated to what may actually be the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life. Eddie shoves a hand down and curls it around his cock, jerking off in quick short movements. Then Eddie brings his other hand up to the collar and starts to pull.

He goes slow, increasing the pressure gradually. His moans turn into breathy gasps and his eyes fall shut and he looks like something straight out of a porno. He’s shaken by each of Richie’s thrusts, every motion punching another increasingly breathless sound out of him. 

Then he lets go and Richie watches the haze fade from Eddie’s eyes as he suddenly gasps desperately for air. 

“Fuck, Eds,” Richie moans. “You’re so fucking tight, so fucking pretty.”

“So fucking close,” Eddie whines in response. He strokes his cock quick and his knuckles brush Richie’s stomach. 

“Wanna see you come, Eddie. Make yourself come.” Richie licks his lips and keeps his hold on Eddie’s hips bruising and tight. 

Eddie nods nonsensically before reaching for the collar again. Richie watches, dazed and delighted, as Eddie starts the same process as before: a slow pull until he’s fidgeting and writhing. He fucks himself against every thrust and his tongue lolls onto his bottom lip and he stops making noise. Richie watches, enthralled, as Eddie’s eyes slip shut.

A few long moments pass before Eddie lets go of the collar again and his whole body goes tense. He lets out a whimper, a barely-there sort of sound, and Richie shudders at the feeling of come splashing between their stomachs. It’s wet and messy, and Eddie keeps stroking until there’s nothing left to give and his breathing is almost normal.

“Oh my fucking god,” Richie mutters. “That was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen. Can I film that next time?”

“Shut the fuck up and come inside me, asshole,” Eddie manages to wheeze. He clenches down around Richie with what looks like a wince of oversensitivity, and Richie chokes on a moan. 

Richie nods and picks up the pace, keeping with short and fast thrusts, chasing his orgasm. Eddie plays with the collar as he waits, looking sated and fucked out and Richie can see the faint red mark looping around his neck. It’s going to be a bitch to cover even with a high-collared shirt and the thought of Eddie going into work, or to the grocery store, or on a date with Richie with that mark, that _brand_ around his neck is what tips Richie over the edge. 

He falls forward onto Eddie, holding himself up with an elbow pressed into the bed. They’re nose to nose like this, both breathing heavy. Eddie hums contentedly and Richie’s cock twitches when Eddie squirms to get comfortable. 

“So…” Richie rubs his nose against Eddie’s. “You like the present?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You know how you were giving me shit for not just _telling_ you about this? You could’ve just _told me_ that you figured it out.”

“Where’s the fun in that? You look so good in the collar.” 

Eddie smiles, ducking his head. “It’s nice,” he admits. “You’re still an idiot.”

“But I’m _your_ idiot.” Richie preens at Eddie’s unimpressed stare.

Eddie relents quickly. His expression melts into a fond grin, and he brings his clean hand up to toy with Richie’s hair. “Yeah, yeah you are.” 


End file.
